Sorry is Never Enough
by TooEarlytoCare
Summary: Bellamy wanted someone to blame after Charlotte's death and Clarke was the most obvious choice.
1. Chapter 1

Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: This is a bit darker than my previous Bellarke story and involves a much angrier Bellamy after Charlotte's death. The M rating is for potentially more mature chapters later on. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

Bellamy watched as Clarke explained Murphy's exile to the rest of the camp. He respected the calm she seemed to carry with her like armor everywhere she went. But that was the only positive thing he could bring himself to think about her as he replayed Charlotte plummeting to her death over and over. Things had been going well. Progress was being made. And Clarke had ruined all that. He had warned her and she hadn't listened. She never listened.

Clarke's speech was winding down and he had barely said anything, just nodded at random intervals. The crowd had dispersed, but everyone lingered, gathering to discuss what had happened in small groups. Clarke wasn't sure how to take Bellamy's continued silence but the look on his face put her on edge. She looked up at the night sky and saw the clouds gathering there. There was a storm coming and she could see it reflected in Bellamy's face as well.

His voice was a low growl when he finally spoke, shocking her with the venom in his words and tone. "You just couldn't take my word for it, could you? You just had to be right, didn't you?"

She was uncertain how to react to his sudden volatility. "This-this was never what I intended, Bellamy."

His smirk was a grimace. "Your kind never _intends_ anything, do you? You follow the rules because you make the rules. You don't intend for anyone to get hurt but you're always the ones doing the hurting."

Clarke could tell he was hurting, grieving for Charlotte and what had happened to her. He didn't realize Clarke hurt for Charlotte, too. Or he didn't want to realize that she hurt for all of them. Every single one of the 100 had probably had and/or watched a parent, relative, or friend be floated at some point. They were all victims of a failed society and none of them were to blame. But Bellamy wanted someone to blame and he had obviously chosen her.

She tried to remain calm and unaffected by his verbal attack, but she couldn't help the indignation that strained through when she spoke. "I'm not the Council. I'm not the Chancellor. I did as much choosing as you did. I don't know what else you want me to say."

He looked down at her, the righteous blue eyes, open face, and glowing hair. "You don't know? But you just _knew_ Murphy killed Wells. I told you to wait. I saw how you handled what happened to Atom. _I_, for once, was going to stay calm. You expect that from me. But you flew off the handle because it was _your_ friend who died. Apparently, you have very different expectations for yourself, Little Miss Perfect."

Clarke's own pain and anger boiled over and she couldn't hold back anymore as a light wind picked up, blowing leaves and swaying the smaller tree branches. "I'm not perfect! I never pretended to be anything I wasn't. I only expect honesty and hard work. From myself and from others. There's nothing wrong with that."

A growing crowd gathered even as rain started falling with stronger and stronger gusts of wind. Bellamy half expected Clarke to stomp her foot as she defended herself. She was such a brat. A spoiled, privileged brat. Lucky for her, she had him to put her in place, once and for all.

"You want honesty, princess? You want the truth?"

Clarke felt uneasy as he sneered down at her, a completely different person than the normally smooth charmer. But she wasn't going to let him see her break. She wouldn't let any of them see her break.

Octavia rushed forward trying to keep him from saying something she knew he would regret. The rain began falling harder and harder. "Bellamy, stop this! Not like this, not here, please!"

He looked down at his sister then around at the people gathered as the pouring rain soaked everyone's hair and clothes. He shook her hands off his arm. "No, Octavia! This needs to be said." He swung to face Clarke, the anger in his gaze hitting her like a flame. "Don't you get it, princess? The truth is I hate everything about you. Everything you stand for." He gestured to the people gathered around them. "We all do." Clarke gasped as each of his words hit her like a physical blow. He was in for blood tonight and nothing she said was going to take away the vicious glint in his dark eyes. She glanced at the faces around her and saw a few friendly faces among the resolutely angry ones. So very few.

She stammered as she tried to stay composed and answer him in front of the others. "I-I…okay."

Bellamy laughed bitterly and rolled his eyes. "Okay? Is that all you have to say? You always have so much to say any other time."

She looked at him, searching for something, anything that would make her believe he was the man she had once trusted, the man who had been so kind to Charlotte. Was she really so abhorrent that he would unleash this storm on her in front of the entire camp?

"I-I'm not sure what it is you want me to say. I am who I am. I can't change what happened to your mother. Or my father. I can't change what happened to all of us. I was wrong about Murphy. And Charlotte. And…I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry."

For the briefest of moments she thought something she said had broken through the hardness surrounding him, but as quickly as she saw it, it was gone. He really and truly hated her, she could see it in his face, feel it crackling in the air between them.

The water pouring down from the night sky stung as it hit the skin and Bellamy shook his head as his dry laugh echoed through the camp. "You know as well as the rest of us, Princess. Sorry is never good enough. Sorry doesn't change it." He turned and walked quickly away leaving Clarke to watch as the surviving members of the 100 slowly drifted back to their own tents and shelters. She was left alone in the clearing as the storm raged on around her.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: This is a few weeks later, after Clarke and Finn have been together and Raven has crash-landed. Again, this is much darker and Clarke/Bellamy are probably somewhat OOC for some readers' tastes. For example, Clarke may seem selfish or spoiled, but she's just very tired and overwhelmed. Bellamy is downright hateful, but he's also overwhelmed. Bear with them and with me. M rating is for language and possible future situations. Thank you for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting! Let me know what you think!

Chapter 2

Two weeks later, Clarke woke in the early morning to the usual sounds of the camp, people milling about talking as they worked. They were recovering slowly from the storm. Rather, the others were recovering from the storm and building a life together on Earth, Clarke was merely existing. She lay on her pallet in the bottom of the drop ship and thought about the past few weeks. Wells was gone. Charlotte was gone. Finn may as well have been, though she really didn't have any ill will toward Raven for reclaiming him. Finn had disrespected them both with his actions. Clarke resisted smacking herself in the forehead every time she thought about how she had let herself trust and be distracted by the Spacewalker. She felt incredibly stupid. _But not for long_, she told herself.

Bellamy Blake may have hated her and he may have induced the rest of the camp to be leery of her after the situation with Charlotte, but she was done being a sitting duck for grounders and Bellamy's verbal punching bag. Though he had hardly spoken to her in recent days, when he had, it was with disdain and to mock her every suggestion. She was finished trying to help him or reason with him. Octavia had said to give her brother time, that he didn't handle grief or sadness well and it was just his way to lash out when he was upset. Clarke had bit her tongue to keep from telling Octavia to shove the psycho-babble where the sun didn't shine. She was tired of excuses, when it came to Bellamy, to Finn, to her mother. She was just so damn tired.

Groaning, she forced herself to roll over and push on to her feet to start her day. She had a plan forming in her mind and she wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep anyway. She stretched and folded her pallet back up to a manageable size and thought about how much of it she would be able to carry with her. She didn't have many personal items and even if she had, she preferred to pack and haul rations and practical tools. She needed to be smart if she was going to get where she was headed safely and quickly.

Exiting the drop ship, she looked out at the camp and suddenly heard a commotion coming from the other side of the drop ship. Octavia appeared and rushed to grab her arm, pulling Clarke in the direction she had just come from.

"Octavia, what's going on? Is someone hurt?" Clarke wasn't sure she was up to facing yet another injury so early in the day. She tried to stay patient and clear-headed, but she couldn't muster the energy for it today. She'd made up her mind to go and she wanted to be gone as soon as possible. Monty, Jasper and Octavia knew enough now that they'd be able to help the injured until Bellamy figured something out. They really didn't need her and she tried to convince herself that she didn't need them. She needed peace.

Octavia continued to drag her around the ship and quickly explained the newest development in trying to contact the Ark. "Raven got the radio working! She's speaking with your mother now and asked me to come get you. Your mother wants to talk to you." Clarke immediately dug her heels in and ripped her arm from Octavia's grasp. She balked at the idea of talking to her mother and didn't want to be anywhere near Raven right now, no matter how useful the mechanic was proving to be for communication with the Ark. But this meant she could leave without feeling guilty about it. The sooner the better.

"I, umm, I have to go check on Finn's wound. I'll be right there." Octavia looked at her like she'd grown a second head, but shrugged and let her go as Clarke quickly ducked back into the other drop ship entrance and began throwing her things into her pack. She had no intention of checking on Finn or speaking with her mother ever again. The two people that had hurt her the most could comfort themselves, or not, for all she cared. It was time to take care of herself. She could imagine her dad telling her to stop and think things through, but she couldn't let that stop her. It was time to go.

She exited the ship and made her way silently to the edge of camp, trying not to attract any attention to herself or the overstuffed bag she carried. As she reached the edge of the clearing where the 100 had set up tents and work stations, she picked up speed only to be jerked back by a strong hand gripping her forearm. She whipped around to see the third person she hoped to never speak with again.

Bellamy stared down at her with unmasked anger and a hint of disgust, his eyes nearly black with his dislike for the petite woman in front of him. "Where exactly do you think you're going, Princess?" His sneer made her skin crawl and she wondered how she had ever seen any good in him. She jerked from his grasp, rubbing her arm where he had gripped it tightly.

"What is it with you Blakes and not respecting personal boundaries? Keep your hands to yourself, _King_." The nickname was thrown with such sarcasm and bitterness Bellamy had to keep himself from stepping back in surprise. _Good_, Clarke thought, she could give it just as good as he did.

He recovered quickly and smirked. "Don't flatter yourself, Griffin. And don't answer a question with a question. Where. Are. You. Going."

Clarke knew she couldn't tell him the truth. She kept the lie simple and began walking quickly as she threw the explanation over her shoulder. "I'm going to gather more herbs for medicine."

He caught up to her and stepped in her path, forcing her to step first to the left then to the right when he sidestepped her at every turn. Bellamy wasn't going to let her go anywhere unless he felt like it.

He looked down at her and studied the determined expression on her face before narrowing his eyes. "Despite what you privileged think of janitors, I'm not actually stupid. You don't need a whole pack to gather medicinal herbs, Clarke. Now tell me where you're really going."

She couldn't help throwing her arms up in frustration before settling them on her hips. "Why do you care?! Don't you have many more _worthy_ people or things to worry about?" Bellamy didn't miss the wounded tone in her voice. He didn't doubt she realized how she'd sounded when she quickly swept around him to continue walking toward the newly reconstructed and nearly finished wall around camp.

He caught up once again and looked relieved when she paused at the sound of his voice. He hid his relief as she faced him and added extra venom to his next words for good measure. "Let's be very real with each other, Clarke. I don't care about _you_. I care about this camp. And you affect this camp. I need to know where our only healer is sneaking off to." He paused, then pasted a vicious leer on his face as he came to a realization. "Are you going to meet the Spacewalker somewhere, Princess? Is that why you need your bed roll?"

Clarke gasped at the insinuation and whirled around to face him, her fury evident in every feature. She had known everyone in camp knew of her previous indiscretion with Finn, but it hadn't been spoken of since Raven had arrived and fully staked her claim. She thought everyone had some modicum of respect for privacy. _Wrong again_, she thought to herself. Her hands shook as she pointed a finger at his chest and punctuated each word with a jab in his direction. "You, Bellamy Blake, are a fucking bastard. I knew you were guilty of a lot of things, but because you loved your sister, I never expected you to be capable of such intolerable cruelty."

Bellamy remained stalwart and unmoving. He looked down at her literally and figuratively and she expected him to yawn to express his lack of interest in her tirade. She worked hard to regain her composure and kept her voice cold and uncaring, much like the tall man in front of her. "I am going to search for resources. I am going alone and I am not coming back until and when I'm ready." She refused to tell him she wasn't coming back, that she'd rather be grounder bait than remain in a camp run by a hateful megalomaniac who seemed obsessed with lobbing insults at her whenever the opportunity arose.

His loud chuckle made her want to slap him, but she forced herself to remain calm. She would be away from him and the rest of her problems soon. She just had to get him to leave her alone once and for all.

"What makes you think I would allow that, Griffin? You're needed here, whether you and I like it or not." He crossed his arms and waited for her answer, thinking he would get the best of her by appealing to her need to be needed and recognized as a healer.

Now she smirked. "Actually, you don't. Raven made contact with the Ark this morning. The radio signal is holding strong. You can direct any and all medical questions to my mother and when the drop ships from the Ark begin coming down, you'll have actual doctors to depend on. Or at least the others will, you'll probably be floated as soon as Jaha gets ahold of you." When he didn't immediately respond, she hoisted her pack higher and turned, not intending to stop again until she was far from the camp and the 100.

Bellamy's mind raced thinking over her words and debating their truthfulness. He ignored her comment about Jaha, choosing to focus on how the camp would proceed without her. But he didn't stop her. He still blamed her for Charlotte's death and the chaos that had preceded it. He couldn't let it go and he couldn't let her go without one last jab.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish then! Don't worry, we won't be missing you!"

She turned to see him waving and was glad they were both out of earshot of the rest of the camp. She raised a middle finger and waved to him with it. She had an irresistible urge to wipe that smirk off his face.

She smiled her sweetest smile and began walking backwards grasping the strap of her bag with both hands. "You would know an awful lot about rubbish, wouldn't you, _Janitor_ Blake?" The smirk fell from his face and she turned passing through the wall, knowing he wouldn't follow. An overwhelming contentment settled over her. She was finally free.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: This is a very transitional chapter meant to show how thoughts and feelings are progressing. I just wanted to warn readers that there isn't any dialogue and it's a bit short. If you're not into that, sorry. I wanted to explore this journey with Clarke and obviously there's going to be a lot of gradual change in how these characters feel about themselves and each other that has to be worked out somehow. Thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting and following, it is so appreciated! Without further ado, read on and let me know what you think!

Chapter 3

Clarke picked her way along a narrow break in the trees trying to figure out her next steps. Some would call her incredibly stupid, but she felt incredibly liberated. In those first few moments after she left the camp, she was just...happy. For the first time in a long time, she was relieved of stress, guilt and responsibility. Though a little guilt still ate at her. If she was found and captured by the Grounders, she could be a threat to the 100. But she wasn't going to let herself think about that right now. She had struck out on her own. She had told off Bellamy Blake. She was putting the past behind her, one muddy step at a time.

She listed the potential threats ahead of her in her mind. _Grounders. Animals. Poisonous food sources. Acid fog. Murphy, if he was still alive._ In comparison to the dangers on the Ark, that seemed like a lot. But the dangers on the Ark were more subtle, less suspicious even than poisonous nuts. _Rules too easily broken. Fathers too easily betrayed. Mothers too easily trusted._ Somewhere in her mind, Clarke knew that she would have to forgive her mother someday, if only for her own sanity. But in her current state, she was content to let that anger simmer. Her resentment of her mother, Finn, Bellamy...it would fuel her, keep her warm in the cold, keep her going in the impossible.

Bellamy had stood for a long time watching the place in the trees where she had disappeared. He had never imagined Clarke Griffin would crack from the pressure and go AWOL on her patients and friends. It was just so unexpected and unlike her. He had thought about leaving countless times, taking Octavia and just walking away. He envied Clarke her ability to actually do it. _Princess has some balls after all._

After realizing, she wasn't going to immediately come stomping back to camp complaining of a bee sting or some other trivial injury the privileged couldn't handle, he turned and made his way back to the middle of camp. It was unlikely that anyone would realize Clarke was gone for at least a few hours. He was unsure of how they would react when they did find the healer gone. Even less sure of what they would do when they found out he had let her walk away.

In truth, he didn't really believe they would be okay without her. Even with the radio and doctors to be delivered shortly, Clarke wasn't particularly replaceable. He hated to admit it. He hated even more that he had let her go more because of his own prejudices and less because it was what she told him was better for the 100. He wanted her gone because when she was around, he had to be better. And being better was hard. Except, apparently, for Clarke. She was better, but not perfect. And he hated her for it. He hated himself for hating her. He knew she wasn't like the other privileged on the Ark, that she truly wanted to help people. Beyond deserting camp, she hadn't done very many selfish things either in space or on Earth. And that was what made her truly better than him.

He suspected even Octavia knew that he was more selfish that any of the others. He did what he had to in order to get on the drop ship, but he continued to ask himself if it was because he wanted to protect Octavia or because he couldn't live with the guilt that he was the reason she was going to Earth in the first place? He wanted to think he was a good brother, a good person. But Clarke Griffin put that in limbo with her calm voice and forward-thinking.

He was glad she was gone. Now he could be a leader without her constant nagging and badgering about what was best for everyone. He heard her voice in his head reminding him that she had only ever wanted what was best for them all, him included. He shook those thoughts away quickly. He didn't have sympathy for people like Clarke and he didn't have time to be the perfect leader she expected him to be. They needed to survive. He wondered how long she would on her own.  
-

Clarke broke through the acres of trees surrounding the 100's camp to a wide valley. She could see fields of high green grass with a small stream cutting across the middle of it all. In the distance there were hundreds of mountain peaks, all much larger than Mt. Weather would likely have been. There were more trees scattered throughout the valley and one particularly large oak on the edge of the stream. Like a beacon calling to her, she realized that oak was where she should stop for the night. She could make her solitary camp beneath the shade of its branches and decide where she was going next. Or she could stay for a while. The area was open, probably the worst idea for staying hidden from enemies, but it felt right. Like the Earth she had drawn on the walls of her cell.

The wind moved the tall blades of grass like ocean waves, or how she imagined ocean waves would move. Now that she had a plan for the next few hours at least, she made her way slowly to the oak and rested her hands on the rough bark there. She felt like she was greeting an old friend. Maybe she was going crazy after all. But it felt like she was finally home and she couldn't help smiling wide at the idea.

She sat down her pack and made a place to sit in the shade of the tree, leaning back against the trunk to stare out at the green fields around her. She wished her father could see this with her. When she felt the wetness on her face, she looked to the sky but didn't see any clouds. She was crying without realizing it, without feeling it. She had been so happy a moment ago. Where had that joy gone? _Dad should have been here_, she thought. _It all should have been different, but it's not. It never should have been this way. Dad, Wells, Charlotte. They deserved to see this._

She laid her head back on the trunk and wept, allowing herself to do something she thought she'd never do on a sunny Earth day thousands of miles below the Ark. She mourned.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: I sincerely apologize for the long delay, life got a bit crazy and I was a little stuck over where to take this story. Bear with me as I work through writer's block. I love that you guys are enjoying it and really really appreciate all your reviews/follows/favorites! Here's the next chapter! :)

Chapter 4

Bellamy didn't realize how Clarke's absence would affect the camp. No one besides the Spacewalker was pouting, but the others seemed more careful, scared even. Despite their knowledge that they could now contact the Ark and could soon even look forward to more advanced medical care than what Clarke could provide, there was a restless trepidation spreading through the members of the 100. Maybe it was the comfort of the known or Clarke's reassurance that they would find a way. Either way, without their healer they were scared.

Bellamy was unprepared to deal with that reality, as well as Octavia's reaction to finding out he had simply let Clarke walk out of camp and away from its small level of protection from Grounders and other threats.

"What were you thinking, B? Just letting her go! Do you really hate her that much or do you have some kind of God complex like Jaha and the Council, needing to make yourself feel evermore important?"

His sister's words stung, but he knew there was some truth in them. He didn't like Clarke after what happened with Charlotte. He had never wanted to like her. He needed to find somewhere to direct his anger over Charlotte's death and Clarke had been an easy target. He'd felt powerful when he raged against her during the storm while the others listened. She was one of the privileged and he was finally going to bring her low with his words and his anger.

With Octavia's expectant face staring up at him waiting for an answer, he didn't feel powerful. He felt foolish for not being able to control his emotions like a good leader should have. The reality that he may have been too hard on Clarke chafed against him in a way that made him want to lash out again. He kept his frustrations tightly in check as he addressed Octavia's endless questioning.

"No. I'm not like Jaha or the Council. I can admit when I've made mistakes. And I realize now I should have spoken with Clarke in private. I shouldn't have taken it that far."

"A lot of good that does us now, Bellamy! We're struggling here. Clarke helped organize us, she directed us when you didn't have the time. She did a lot more for you than you'd ever like to admit. She's gone now and if it was between dealing with your crabby ass and the Grounders, I'd pick them. She'll never come back!"

Bellamy rubbed his face with one hand, trying to think of what would comfort his sister, what would comfort the others. He didn't know what to say so he said the one thing only Octavia had ever heard him utter. "I'm sorry, O. If it makes you feel better, she looked like she just needed a break from camp. She'll probably come back soon. Really." He was hopeful she would believe him, but that was quickly dashed when he saw the fury in her eyes.

"No, it _doesn't_ make me feel better. What was it you told Clarke in front of the whole damn camp? '_Sorry is never enough, Princess.'_ Congratulations, Bellamy. You just became a hypocrite." She stomped off continuing to mutter something about power-hungry idiots. Two women had walked away from him that day, neither bothering to look back.

* * *

Clarke went about preparing for her new life in isolation by scavenging for food and making a new one-person camp. She knew she probably should have chosen a safer location than the lone tree out in the open, but she couldn't bring herself to leave the peace she'd found there. The tree was like an old friend holding her up. She realized how much she'd needed that support in the old camp and had been unable to find it in human form. Maybe that made her crazy, but it was better than desperation. That had made her seek out Finn and become distracted. She didn't need that and she certainly didn't need Bellamy Blake's band of merry misfits to look after.

She took comfort in gathering berries she was fairly sure were edible. The uncertainty gave her a bit of a thrill and she laughed to herself about how she may very well be crazy before it was all said and done. As her light chuckling carried on the wind, she didn't notice the eyes watching from the edge of the woods several hundred yards away.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: This is kind of a short chapter and there is a sudden jump in time, but it will all make sense in due course. I know these are not the longest chapters, but I'm trying to keep the flow natural. Thanks again for reading/reviewing/favoriting/following! You're all awesome! :)

Chapter 5

_Several weeks later…_

A sudden cacophony of noise spreading throughout the camp jarred Bellamy from sleep. He was in his tent with a girl curled on either side of him. A thick fog had gathered, bringing a chill to camp during the night and they protested as he pushed himself to his feet to find out what was happening at such an ungodly hour. The sun was just beginning to crest the horizon as he stepped through the tent flap and saw a crowd gathered around the last opening in the fence. Several faces turned to him as whispers ran through the crowd. The foreboding was palpable and it shocked him to silence, the rarest of states for him.

He made his way through the crowd to fully see the opening and what was demanding the attention of every remaining member of the 100. A lone grounder approached carrying a limp body with blonde hair trailing in the soft breeze. He knew immediately that it was Clarke and that the trepidation of the camp's members came from seeing their long-lost healer in a state of such vulnerability.

The crowd formed by the 100 parted as the grounder drew slowly closer allowing Bellamy to step forward. Octavia was by his side at once, prior harsh words forgotten and replaced by the same fear he could feel brewing even in his own scarred heart.

"That's not one from the grounder clans we've seen, Bellamy. The clothing is different and he's not currently trying to kill us. What do you think he's planning?"

His eyes didn't leave the grounder, subconsciously refusing to look lower, at the ghostly pale woman lying unconscious in his arms. "I don't know. He's approaching alone but we have no idea what or who is in the trees. This could be a big trap."

Turning to address the guards and the rest of the crowd without showing his back to the grounder, he shouted for everyone to gather weapons and take cover. "There's no point in just standing here waiting to be attacked, at least act like you haven't wasted time the time we've spent on training!"

Octavia grabbed his arm as he turned back, forcing him to look into her eyes. There was a desperate question there. "What's _your_ plan, Bellamy? Are you going to let him use Clarke as a bargaining tool or are you going to shoot him while he's carrying her?"

A lance of pain shot through him at his sister's thinking he was that callous. "No, Octavia, but I am going to protect this camp." He winced momentarily as he spoke what he was thinking. "What if she's dead and he's just hand-delivering the body as a warning? She's been gone for weeks now. He doesn't look like he's armed, but I'm not going to stake the lives of everyone here on that. Get a weapon and get out of the way so I'm not worrying about you."

What he thought was a rough declaration of brotherly love made her appear more angry than afraid. Her voice dripped acid as she shoved away from him, saying, "I don't need you to worry about me. I need you to be the kind of leader Clarke thought you could be. Don't let her die because of your pride."

She stalked away from him and he turned his full attention back to the grounder who still seemed to be walking impossibly slowly. He had finally made it within fifty feet of the fence before abruptly stopping at a seemingly invisible boundary marker.

Bellamy spoke swiftly and quietly to his lead guards telling them, "He's giving us a wide berth. That's a good sign." They nodded quickly, eyes still giving away their uncertainty of the situation at hand. _That's why I'm a good leader_, Bellamy thought, _I can handle this_.

Several tense moments passed before the grounder spoke. His English was unstilted, but Bellamy noticed a distinct accent that he couldn't place. It lended a certain dignity to his tone as he shouted across the divide, "I mean you no harm. I have not come here to fight you. I have brought this woman back to you as she belongs to your tribe. She should not break from you again. Do not break from her."

Bellamy could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on him as though the last of the grounder's words were spoken directly to him. He knew he had pushed Clarke to the point of no return and, by some miracle, she had been brought back to them. They were asking him to fix this and make it right.

He didn't know how to make this right, but he knew how to lead, so he shouted back to the grounder, "Thank you. By your kindness, we are a tribe undivided."

Bellamy wasn't sure where the words had come from, but they must have sounded sincere because the grounder nodded in the distance and lowered Clarke gently to the earth. He tucked a small object into the pack that he set beside her. Kneeling further, he whispered in her ear. He stood, looked to Bellamy and the camp, nodded once more and turned, walking with his back straight and his gait slow, moving steadfastly toward in the direction he had come.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: Here's another very short chapter, I'm sorry for the tidbits of progress but there will soon be lots of tense Bellarke interaction which is really what it's all about. I had to delete and re-add Chapters 6 and 7 because they weren't showing up for some reason, sorry the confusion! Thanks again for all the support in the form of reading/reviews/favorites/follows, it is as usual so very appreciated!

Chapter 6

As the remaining members of the 100 watched the mysterious grounder disappear in the distance, Bellamy, Octavia and several guards rushed to Clarke still lying unconscious on the ground. She was very pale, but didn't appear malnourished or injured in any way.

Bellamy wondered at the weeks she had spent away from the camp and how she had survived not only the wilderness but coming into contact with yet another new sect of grounders. He assumed the grounder who had delivered her back to them was part of a larger group, but there was really no telling how the remaining inhabitants of the earth chose to align themselves. Bellamy felt a keen sense of gratitude that the healer was back, but couldn't bring himself to admit that he had missed either the woman or her skills. Stubborn and irrational as it may be, he still saw her as the cause of the previous unrest in the camp and blamed her for Charlotte's death. Octavia's anger didn't change that. Neither did the fact that Clarke looked like a sleeping sacrificial lamb.

They approached slowly and Bellamy knelt carefully to examine the young blonde woman. She showed no signs of waking as he brushed the hair away from her face. He realized she looked vulnerable but he also saw unequivocal strength in her. The thought that he may have misjudged the princess in a number of ways made him feel itchy and angry. He picked her up himself, only a little roughly and proceeded to carry her back to camp.

When he walked in the direction of his own tent and away from the drop ship shelter Clarke had previously occupied, Octavia stepped in front of him. "Where do you think you're taking her? She needs to be in the drop ship where we can look after her until she wakes up."

Bellamy didn't pause in his long strides across the camp and responded shortly, "Clarke and I have a lot to talk about when she wakes up. She'll rest in my tent until we can find out more about that grounder from her."

Octavia refused to back down and would have shoved him if he hadn't been carrying her friend. "You're not going to berate her the second she wakes up, Bellamy. Who knows what happened to her after you drove her away? Give her a break. Hell, give us all a break from your never-ending warrior rebel bullshit act and just let her be."

He drew up quickly, finally stopping to address her succinctly. "You should know better than anyone, dear sister, that I don't act. We're all warriors down here and you'd be wise to remember that if you continue trying to get in my way."

His tone belied the finality of his words and she knew not to argue as he continued toward his tent, only hoping that Clarke wouldn't turn tail and run the second she woke up. She was back in the place she had so resolutely tried to leave. In recognizing how much Bellamy now sounded like Jaha, Octavia suddenly realized she didn't blame Clarke so much for trying to escape.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I don't own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: This one is finally a bit longer than the others and since you all are so great, I thought I'd go ahead and post it, hope you enjoy! Please continue to read/review and thank you again for the follows and favorites! :)

Chapter 7

Bellamy was thankful that the two girls had cleared out by the time he carried Clarke into his tent. There was no sign of them and he felt faintly comforted that Clarke hadn't seen them there. He was well aware what she thought of him and his romantic conquests would surely be on her list of his many faults. He smiled wryly at the idea of him being romantic.

He laid her down as gently as he could manage while also carrying her pack and his weapon in a sling on his back. She still didn't stir and he was grateful. He imagined her waking up as angry as a wet cat and he was eager to avoid that reality this early in the morning. He left to get them both some food, still trying to decide how he would question Clarke when she finally woke up.

Clarke was dreaming of her oak tree and the valley and the peace there, content that Earth finally seemed like the one she had imagined on the Ark. She could enjoy for her dad and Wells and Charlotte and maybe even tell them all about it one day if there really was a heaven.

She woke suddenly, her recently honed instincts reacting to someone walking through a tent flap. When she saw it was Bellamy Blake and realized that she was back in the 100's camp, she groaned, covering her eyes. "Screw heaven, I'm in hell."

Bellamy couldn't stop the harsh chuckle that erupted from him. "Well, good morning to you, too, Princess."

She opened her eyes again and looked at him as he made to sit down across from her. She felt her hackles rising and sat up too quickly, immediately feeling dizzy as she scooted backwards away from him. He saw her reaction to him and took on a look of disgust to hide how offended he was. "Don't worry, sweetheart, you're not my type." He set the food he had brought in front of her and made the motion of eating in case she had forgotten. She bristled at his patronizing attitude.

"Cut to the chase, Blake. How did I get here?" She pushed the food away, still feeling queasy and trying to remember how she had come to be unconscious and at the camp.

Bellamy tried to affect what he had heard was an old Southern accent and responded with his biggest defense mechanism, sarcasm. "Why, miss, you were dropped off here by the stork himself."

She came to the sudden realization that he was half serious and that the one person she thought would never burn her had actually delivered her right back to the fire. Bellamy waited for her to say something but she looked to be a mixture of nauseated, pissed, and shocked. When she didn't speak for several minutes, he decided to get right to it.

"So who was the grounder you were with and where have been for the last six weeks? Are there more of his kind? Are they planning to attack? What have you been— "

Clarke quickly held up her hands and shook her head back and forth. "Bellamy, stop! Haven't you ever been told not to ask a compound question in an interrogation? You'll never get a straight answer if you badger me like some prisoner of war."

Bellamy's eyes narrowed and he spoke in a low, careful tone. "You walked away from this camp and the people here, Clarke. We have no reason to believe your loyalties don't lie elsewhere."

Clarke laughed at him and then laughed at the sudden rage in his face. "You seem to have forgotten how easy you made it to walk away. What was it you said, 'Good riddance to bad rubbish?' You should have been one of the privileged, Bellamy. Your memory of your own mistakes is so very short."

He stood abruptly and started toward her, his long frame towering over her as she sat smugly aware of how angry she could make him. "I can admit my mistakes and, believe me, I remember them. And I don't walk away from the people I care about."

Clarke stood to address him, though it didn't make him any less imposing. Looking up at him and reflecting the same anger and disdain he wore, she refused to back down as she had the night Charlotte had died. "Do you care about them? Or do you just want to control them?"

Bellamy turned away, shaking his head to clear it of the confusion she created there. "I just need to know if your grounder poses a threat to this camp. You can tell me or we can send guards to find out."

"Jeshua is not a threat to this camp. And your guards would never find him."

He turned back to her as he heard the wistfulness in her voice. "And who is he?"

She looked down at her hands, fervently missing the freedom she had found away from this camp and the peace that Jeshua had helped her to find in her own mind.

"He's a friend. A lone grounder surviving on his own. He doesn't harm anyone and he doesn't need control to feel like a leader. Or like a man for that matter." She didn't know why she felt need to throw a sideways comment on Bellamy's masculinity or imply that she and Jeshua were anything more than friends. He was simply a mentor and an ally and had saved her from going completely crazy, but Bellamy didn't need to know that.

Bellamy's eyes narrowed once more and he drew himself up to his full height. "I see. Since I have no reason to believe what you say and have no indication that this isn't part of a larger plan to attack this camp, you will remain here to ponder the many virtues of your 'friend.' You are hereby placed under guard as an enemy combatant. Clarke Griffin, you are a prisoner of war."


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry is Never Enough

Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or its characters.

Author's Note: I'm not sure what's going on with the last two chapters not showing up, but I think it's fixed now. I'm posting this chapter and may not get to post another until after this weekend. Thank you so much for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting! The chapters are picking up a bit in length, but will continue to vary with how the story flows. Let me know what you think! :)

Chapter 8

Clarke wondered what she had done in a past life to deserve the last few years of chaos. First her father was floated, then she was jailed, sent to Earth like disposable cargo, witnessed Charlotte's death, and forced to interact with Bellamy Blake. Karma is to bitch as Clarke's life is to perfect example.

She sat in the tent for several hours, trying to mediate as Jeshua had taught her. Normally she would listen to the sounds around her, alternately trying to focus on them and then block them. Normally she was surrounded by nature and the calming wind and water noises of the valley. Normally the sounds around her didn't include members of the 100 arguing over whose turn for guard duty it was and discussing what number of days between baths was acceptable. It may have been at one time, but this wasn't her normal anymore and she knew she could only take so much before breaking.

Octavia broke through Clarke's reverie by choosing that moment to push her way past the guards and into Bellamy's tent. "Get out of my way, I don't care what my brother told you. I'm going in there and if you don't take your hands off me, I promise you, you'll hear from Bellamy about it."

Suddenly Octavia was inside and Clarke was enveloped in a tight hug. Neither girl was accustomed to such displays of friendship, particularly with each other, and there was an awkward moment of silence when they pulled apart. Clarke was surprised to find she was glad at least one person had missed her.

Octavia scanned Clarke and finally settled on her eyes, asking her succinctly, "Are you alright? I'm going to kill Bellamy for this."

Clarke didn't say anything if she was surprised by Octavia's concern, but Octavia could see relief on her face as if she had expected the dark-haired girl to also chew her out about where she'd been over the past weeks. "I'm okay. Just rudely jerked back into reality once again. And don't deny me the pleasure of killing your brother once I figure a way out of this. I feel like I'm in another bad dream."

Octavia grew quiet and her face was serious as she told Clarke what she thought of her situation in a solemn tone. "No one understands why he's doing this. We all know you'd never do anything to hurt us. And if your grounder friend really wanted to do something, he would have done it by now. You've been cooped up in here for three days, for god's sake!"

Clarke smirked, "Oh, is that all?"

Octavia continued on, not pausing to laugh at Clarke's attempt at humor. "I don't mean to berate you, but what the hell is going on? You walk away from camp and then get carried back by a knight in dirty grounder armor and you won't say so much as a word about what happened all this time you were away. Bellamy is fit to be tied that you won't tell him anything and he's getting more and more pissy with the rest of the camp."

Clarke grimaced at the atmosphere Bellamy was creating out of the tension between the two of them. Her captivity was now affecting the entire camp because he wouldn't even let her outside to treat minor injuries. She had even heard the guards mumbling that Bellamy had gone off the deep end along with Charlotte. Crude as their comments were, Clarke could feel unrest brewing within the 100 and knew that Bellamy was too blinded by rage and power to see it. She could see now how she had damaged the infrastructure of order here when she had questioned his authority concerning Murphy and Charlotte. _We're all going to suffer if he loses control of this camp._

Clarke shrugged with the weight of her silent realization and looked up at Octavia. "I'm sorry, I don't know what to say or do to make this better. I wouldn't have come back if Jeshua had brought me. This is all out of my hands."

Octavia was flabbergasted at the idea of Clarke giving up or giving up control, but she knew by Clarke's expression that she wasn't even close to joking. "What is even going on here? Between you and Bellamy both riding the crazy train, everyone's miserable. Snap out of it, we all need you two to figure your shit out and lead us. He's lost his damn mind, Clarke."

Chuckling lightly, Clarke whispered more to herself than to the other girl, "I know a thing or two about that."

Octavia nearly rolled her eyes at Clarke being strangely cryptic and seemingly unhelpful. "Screw this, I'm going to go enjoy what time I have left on Earth before this all blows up in our faces." She turned to leave and Clarke reached out, grabbing her arm to stop her.

"Octavia, wait. If there's anything I've learned over the last few weeks, it's that you can't close yourself off completely and there are too many things in this world you can't do alone. I'll tell Bellamy where I was and what I was doing…if you agree to be there when I tell him."


End file.
